Ron Gets His Wish
by Nargled
Summary: Total crack fic. A horcrux worn around the neck for 12 hours makes you tired, grumpy and head for the dark side. Harry has had one in his head for 15 years and... nothing? I don't think so. Ron has always been jealous of Harry. Harry decides to grant him his wish. Somewhere in book seven. Rated M for death and language and general craziness. You have been warned.
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. Looked into buying the rights, found I was several billion dollars short. Or, to paraphrase a disclaimer I saw on robst's site, my thanks to Ms. Rowling for allowing all of us to build sandcastles on her beach. Enjoy.

A/N: You were warned. This ain't trying to be literature. Or serious. I just had to get it out of my head so I could do my day job without cackling at inappropriate moments.

Ron Gets His Wish

Ron woke slowly. He was dizzy, groggy, with a bad headache. "Wha...Where...?" His vision slowly came into focus. The room was dark, with only a few candles in fixtures hanging from the ceiling and on sconces mounted on the walls. He tried to rub his head and found he could not, and woke instantly to full alertness, and looked down at himself.

He was tied to a slanting platform, not quite upright. He was veritably coated in thick rope except for his neck and head. Not painfully tight, but he certainly couldn't move. He looked quickly side to side. His view of the room was limited to straight left and right due to the boards he was tied to. The ceiling disappeared into the shadows above him. The wall a few feet in front of him and floor were of large stone blocks, with no mortar in the seams. He could not see a door. It smelled slightly damp and musty. Other than his rapid, raspy breathing and the pounding of his heart in his ears there was no sound at all.

How the hell did he get here? Last thing he remembered was being on the run with Hermione after Harry had disappeared, planning how to get the remaining horcruxes and find Harry again... And where was Hermione, anyway? He grunted as he struggled against the ropes again.

"Ah, he awakes!" The voice was loud and behind him, and he would have jumped a mile if he wasn't wrapped up like a spider's dinner. It was also oddly happy sounding given the circumstances, and then the fact that he knew the voice well pierced the rising panic fogging his brain.

"Harry, is that you? What's going on? C'mon, get me out of here! Quick!" he yelled looking frantically left and right. "Where are you?"

"Right here, Ron, right here, keep your shirt on," the voice said, and Harry appeared on his left, _skipping_ into view, humming a little song to himself, until he stopped right in front of Ron, and gave him a big grin. "And there he is! Nice to have you back with us. We couldn't start without you!"

"Harry?" Ron said, his voice rising in worry. Something was definitely off. Harry was dirty and disheveled, his clothes torn and stained. Harry's hair was messier than usual, poking out in every direction. He looked _way_ to happy with that crazy smile on his face given the situation. And his scar... His scar was thick and red and seemed to be pulsing with a sick life of its own. "Harry?" Ron said more softly. "Are you alright?" concern for his friend temporarily overriding his panic.

Harry's grin got even bigger. "Never better mate, never better. Everything's soon going to be perfect. For everybody! Especially you!"

"Well, brilliant, then. Can we start with cutting me down?" Ron asked hopefully. Whatever was wrong with Harry, once Ron was loose they could get out of here, wherever here was, and get Harry some help. Ron looked at Harry's manic grin again. Some serious help. Today.

If anything, Harry's smile got even bigger. "No can do, mate. You need to stay right there, otherwise you couldn't see the show! It's almost ready!" And with that, Harry skipped away back out of view. Ron could hear him singing to himself again.

"Harry?" he asked tentatively. Harry seemed part way round the twist, and Ron didn't want to speed his journey along any if he could help it.

"Yes, Ron?" came from behind him.

"Where are we?" Hopefully this was a safe question.

"Sirius' place. Did you know it had a dungeon? I didn't. I suppose I should have guessed it had one, given that it's the Black family home. But I never really went into the basement when we were here before, and this is even below the basement, pretty cool, huh? Who would have thought I would get my own dungeon?" and then Harry went back to humming to himself.

Ron slowly digested this burst of speech. Still too much was unknown. And not being able to see what was going on behind him was really starting to freak him out.

"Um, Harry?"

"Yes, Ron?" came the cheerful reply.

Ron cringed a bit. He hoped this question was safe too. "_Why_ are we in the dungeon at Sirius' place?"

"Well, I needed someplace safe to work, and this seemed to fit the bill. Dry, heated, food in the kitchen, clean sheets on the bed. Much better than the tent don't you think?"

Ordinarily, Ron would agree that just about anywhere was better than starving for days on end in that blasted tent, but right now he wasn't so sure. And they were in the tent because this place wasn't safe to begin with...

"I thought we weren't safe here because Yaxley tagged along from the Ministry. How can we be safe?"

"Kreacher, Ron, Kreacher. Amazing little fellow. Kicked everyone else out and sealed the place. Locked it down tight. Unless old Voldie makes nice with another house elf, he can't even begin to break in here. Then the fact that the house is mine adds a whole other layer of protection. Should have thought of all that months ago."

This was not reassuring. Ron did not want to trust his safety to Kreacher. That nutter of an elf had been too crazy for too long. Hopefully the conversation would continue on a friendly note.

"Um, Harry, are you sure that's a good idea. I mean, Kreacher was going kind of crazy there before. I know we got him the locket and he was nicer and all, but then we left him here in this house all alone again..."

A wand poking into his right cheek cut him off, forcing his head to the left. Ron blinked. He hadn't heard Harry approaching at all.

Harry's voice was no longer light and happy. "Be careful what you say about Kreacher, Ron. He's one of the few people I know that make any sense at all," he said coldly. Then his voice was again carefree. "Once we sorted out that Sirius left me the house, and Kreacher, in his will, we get along great. Pity I had to find out from the goblins telling an elf, rather than the Ministry, but there you go."

The wand disappeared, and carefully Ron looked slowly over to his right. Nothing. Where'd he go again?

Soon Ron heard Harry humming to himself again, then there was the noise of something heavy and wooden being drug across the floor. Ron couldn't stand the tension any more.

"Um, Harry?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"Where's Hermione? Is she OK?"

"Oh, she's great Ron. She's right here, too. You'll get to see her in just a sec. Almost done."

"Done with what?"

"Ah ah ah. Don't want to spoil the surprise. I've been working on it for so long, and I just know you're going to love it!"

Ron was starting to get annoyed. "Harry, I'm sure I would enjoy all this much more if I wasn't all tied up. Can you cut me down, please?"

"Nope, nope, nope. You have to be able to see everything. And now it's ready!" With that, Harry skipped around in front of Ron again, and grabbing the wood on each side of him, drug him around in a half circle. Ron's eyes bugged out, his mouth dropped open, and he nearly wet himself. Propped up in a row along the left hand wall was his entire family from Ginny nearest to him to his parents at the far end, tied to platforms like himself. Even Charlie was here somehow, and beyond his parents was Hermione. They were all asleep. A heavy wooden table sat in front of the twins in the middle of the row. A small door was in the middle of the far wall, past Hermione. Ron's fear gave way to his temper.

"Harry, what the hell are you playing at? You cut me down right now, and all them too. You've gone crazy, mate!"

The tip of Harry's wand appeared as if by magic in the space just in front of the bridge of Ron's nose. Harry's voice was very quiet. "You might want to be careful what you say Ron. If I am crazy, you don't want to piss me off. If I'm not crazy, I might not want to be called that. Besides," and now his voice was whimsical and the wand tip disappeared, "this is all for you, you should be more appreciative. So let's have a party!"

And with that, Harry skipped off again, down the line of captives, waving his wand at each one in turn. Soon they were all stirring, opening their eyes, trying to get their bearings.

"Welcome, everyone, to my party for Ron..." Harry started before the angry and scared voices from the Weasleys and Hermione interrupted him. They were all struggling with their bonds, Charlie even stretching them slightly with his efforts. The twins were looking around the room, trying to find something to use to their advantage. Percy was turning a lovely shade of red, telling Harry loudly how much legal trouble he was in. Mrs. Weasley was alternating between offering Harry a hug and telling Harry this was not like him and he should "let them go, this instant!" Ginny was furious, and was hitching her shoulders, trying to scoot herself up and out of the ropes. Hermione, however, looked at her bonds and those of the others and gave up, knowing it was futile. She just looked at Harry with despair and fear on her face.

"Hey." "Hey!" "HEY!" Having no success, Harry waved his wand in a giant arc, silencing everyone. "Much better. I'm trying to tell you what's going on, but I can't because you're all yelling. So be quiet! Oh, you are. Brilliant."

"So anyway, we are gathered here today to have a party for Ron. My bestest friend. For years, Ron has wanted to be... ME! The Boy-Who-Lived. So today, he gets his wish, and you all get to help. Yay!" he cheered, clapping.

Harry started walking back and forth in front of the Weasley family. "So first off, he has always wanted my money. I mean, it's always done me a lot of good, sitting in the bank where I can't get at it because I'm stuck at the Dursleys or at the Burrow or at school. Big fancy house, servants, lots of nice clothes, trips on the holidays. Who knows what my life would have been like without all that money! Done!" Harry pulled out a folded parchment from his inside his robes. "My will. I leave the entire Potter estate and money to Ron! Congratulations, Ron, you're rich!" Clapping, Harry put the will on the table.

"Second, Ron has always wanted my fame. I know it's always made my life so much easier. I have lots of true and supportive friends, meet other famous people at fancy parties, have the ear and support of the press and the government, hang out at exclusive nightclubs til dawn. I mean, what's not to like? Done!" Harry pulled out a second piece of parchment. "A copy of the letter I wrote to the Daily Prophet, outlining how I couldn't have done any of the things I am credited with doing without Ron, how he is the real hero of the story, and how, if I should meet an untimely demise, he is fated and empowered to carry on my mission to single handedly save magical England! Go Ron!" he cheered and clapped again, and put it on the table next to the will.

"Now, to make sure everyone knows that you're the new Boy-Who-Lived, you need... my scar! The centuries old traditional sign of the magical hero! A precious gift from Fate, or Magic, or ….. whoever, bestowing their favor on me, giving me some unknown and mystical power to defeat evil." Harry bowed down before Ron.

Harry looked sorrowful. "Bad news, Ron, I can't get this one off. I've tried. Lots. It's not normal. It's getting bigger and redder and more painful all the time. I've been told it's a curse scar, and I believe it. So," and he was cheerful again, "we'll just have to give you one of your own!"

Harry pulled a short knife out of his robes and came at Ron with a big crazy smile on his face. Ron had passed into incoherence and was just screaming, thrashing his head back and forth, trying to avoid the shiny blade. "Ron. Ron! RON! Hold still! If you keep moving you'll mess up the scar and no one will know you're a hero. And I might poke out an eye! Then it won't be fun and games anymore." Ron kept screaming and flailing about. "Ron, this isn't very heroic. I mean, really, it's just a little scar. I've got tons of bigger ones all over. Now hold still." Ron was still screaming and jerking back and forth. "OK, fine. _Petrificus totalis_. Oh, much better. I had thought about stunning you, but it's much more heroic if you're awake when you get your scars. I was awake for all mine!"

Harry delicately sliced a lightning bolt on Ron's forehead, blood dripping down into Ron's wildly roving and dilated eye. Harry then pulled out his wand and used a cauterizing spell to stop the bleeding and make sure the scar was nice and visible. "There, a perfect hero scar! Now everyone will know you're the hero and give you the respect you deserve! _Finite_," Harry cast, releasing him.

Harry began pacing about the room again. "Now for the last little thing you need to be me. A little tragedy. I'm sorry, Ron, but it must be done. Can't be the tragic hero without the tragedy. And you can't be the Boy-Who-Lived without you living and someone else dying. But this was the hard part to figure out. Both my parents died defending me, so at least your parents have to die. But that also meant my whole family died, so maybe your whole family has to die. But that seems a bit too harsh, you know? There's so many of you. So I came up with a good compromise. Only half your family has to die. How's that sound? But there's nine of you, can't kill half of someone, so I rounded down, just to be nice. Dad, then mum, then two more. Only fair, don't you think?"

He stopped in front of Ron. Ron had tears streaming down his face, shaking his head back and forth, silently mouthing "no no no" over and over again.

"What's wrong, Ron? I thought you'd be thrilled. I mean, this is what you've always wanted. I have money because my parents were killed by Voldemort. I can't get him here to do this himself, is that what's wrong? Me doing the killing not good enough for you? Huh?"

Ron shook his head vigorously no again. "No? I'm famous because my mom blasted Voldemort into little pieces, dying in the process." The Weasleys stopped fighting their bonds and looked at Harry in surprise. "What, you all really thought _I_ blew up Voldemort. I was 15 months old. How the hell would I have done that? Man, magic folk are really stupid," he muttered, shaking his head in dismay.

"Where was I? Right. You've always wanted to be me. I thought that was weird, wanting to trade your parents in for fame and fortune, because you more than anyone else should know how much my life sucks, but hey, to each their own. Though, given how your mum treats you all, maybe I can understand her going, at least." Molly gave Harry her best glare. The older Weasley boys just looked down or away, trying to be inconspicuous.

"Right, then. On with the show! My dad died first, so that means you, Arthur, get the first crack at me. Ready? Excellent."

Harry waved his wand and the ropes holding Mr. Weasley disappeared. He fell to the floor, his legs not supporting him. Harry removed the silencing charm. "Let me know when your legs wake up and you're ready, Mr. Weasley." Harry pushed Ron on his rack back against the wall, clearing a space to fight.

"So, rules. I will be at the far end, and you Arthur will be guarding Ron. My job is to get through you to him. If you die before him, great! and we can move on to Molly. If Ron dies, well then the game is over and I have to find a new hero and start all over again, and I really don't want to have to do that. You know how difficult it was to set this all up? Tracking down Bill and Charlie was a bear! And smuggling Percy out of the Minister's office? Oy, was that tricky! Kept Kreacher busy for days!"

Mr. Weasley massaged his legs and slowly stood up. "Harry, why are you doing this?" he asked quietly. "You know we would help you with anything you need, you don't have to do this. Let us help you."

Harry shot off a couple stinging hexes at Mr. Weasley, causing him to jump back, and one at Ron's legs for good measure, who squealed in pain. "Ah, ah, ah. It's not about me today, it's about Ron. This is all for him. He's got to become the hero so he can defeat Voldemort. Then he can have all the fame he deserves. Of course, you have the same chance to stop me that my dad had against Voldemort. If you kill me, then you can be famous too and help Ron on his quest to kill him." Harry sorted through a pocket on the inside of his robes and pulled out Mr. Weasley's wand. He set it on the ground in front of Ron, and stepped back towards the far wall, keeping his wand pointed at Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley walked over and picked it up. He faced Harry, a sad look on his face. "I am going to try not to hurt you Harry, we need to get you some help." Harry flicked his wand quickly and a large chunk of wood exploded off the top right corner of the platform holding Ron. "Suit yourself," said Harry. And with that he began rapidly casting hexes and curses, taking Mr. Weasley by surprise. Mr. Weasley dodged and blocked for a few seconds before he was able to return fire, sending spells back at Harry almost as fast as Harry was casting, showing why he was a valuable member of the Order of the Phoenix over the years. Which meant he lasted almost thirty seconds before Harry disarmed him. Mr. Weasley looked up in growing shock as Harry cast one more spell, this time out loud: "_Abra cadabra_!" and a green bolt of light shot out of Harry's wand and struck Mr. Weasley in the chest. He dropped instantly to the ground and didn't move.

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Dammit! He was supposed to win," he said quietly. He levitated Mr. Weasley's body into a corner of the room, then picked up his wand and put it on the table.

Ron and the rest of his family screamed silently, horror and tears on their faces, then appeared to be cursing Harry thoroughly, thrashing against their ropes again. Hermione, however, was still and silent, and was looking at Harry curiously. Harry, turning to face the Weasleys again, noticed this. His shoulders slumped further. He walked over to her and entered the silencing charm surrounding her. Ron could see Hermione yelling at Harry, then suddenly stop and look up at Mr. Weasley's body. She then looked intently at Harry as he was talking, then a look of horror came over her face again and she began crying in earnest. Whatever small hope was stirring in Ron's chest died a quick death. Hermione was shaking her head back and forth, talking quickly, but Harry was unmoved. She listened further, then sagged in her bonds, crying softly. Harry patted her awkwardly and came back out into the middle of the room.

Harry pulled Mrs. Weasley's wand out of his robe pocket, and placed it on the ground in front of Ron. "OK, Mrs. Weasley, your turn," he said, slicing her ropes. Mrs. Weasley was furious in her grief, and staggered as fast as she could to her wand. She grabbed it up and was firing spells off even before she had turned fully around. Harry was on the defensive for a few moments, dodging about the far end of the room before settling into a rhythm. Mrs. Weasley lasted nearly a minute before she too was disarmed. Harry quickly followed up with _abra cadabra_ and Mrs. Weasley fell to the ground, still, from the familiar green blast. Harry levitated her to the corner with Mr. Weasley, and placed her wand on the table next to his.

He sniffed quietly before saying with obviously fake cheerfulness: "Right then, two down, two to go and then Ron can be the Boy-Who-Lived! Who's next?" As everyone else was silenced and bound, it was hard to tell if they were all volunteering or cursing him or praying. "Oh, right. If anyone wants to volunteer, tuck your left ear down to your left shoulder." No one's head bent left and they were all still yelling silently at him. "Oh, come on! This is for Ron! No takers? Fine then, I'll just pull a wand out and whoever it belongs to will be next." At this, Charlie tipped his head to the left, followed by Bill, and after a look at each other, the twins as well. "Yay, volunteers! But I only need two." All four heads stayed tipped to the left. "Well, we'll let the wands decide."

Without looking, Harry pulled wands slowly out of his pocket and set them on the table until Charlie's came out. "Charlie! Congratulations! You're next." Harry dropped his wand in front of Ron and walked down to the other end of the room to release Charlie. As soon as he hit the ground he charged Harry with a loud roar, taking him by surprise. Harry froze for a second, and missed with his first stunner before the second hit Charlie in the chest. Harry had to jump out of the way of the moving and falling body, he had got so close. As Charlie skidded by Harry cast the _abra cadabra_ sending the remaining Weasley's silently wailing and yelling in anger and despair again. Charlie ended his slide in the corner with his parents.

"So bloody close. But not good enough." He squeezed his forehead with his hands. When he lowered them, his scar was even bigger and redder than before. "OK, last one, let's see who's next." Harry went back to the table and pulled out wands until he found one of the twins'. He held it up. "Alright, whose is this, I can't keep it straight." Fred moved his head back and forth to get Harry's attention. "Yours, Fred?" Fred nodded yes. "Brilliant," said Harry as he put all the remaining wands on the table and Fred's by Ron's feet. He cut the ropes holding Fred on his way to the other end of the room again. "Whenever you're ready."

Fred took his time, massaging his legs, then walking about in front of his platform. He gave George a long look and a nod, and George nodded back. Fred walked slowly to his wand on the floor and picked it up standing directly in front of Ron, but kept it pointed to the floor, and waited. And waited. Harry flicked his wand and the other upper corner of Ron's platform exploded into small pieces, but Fred didn't even flinch. Harry raised his eyebrows, then broke out in a big smile. Fred answered with a small smile of his own.

"Small difference between you and Voldemort," Fred said. "Voldemort wanted you dead, but you seem to want Ron alive, to take your place. I figure this is the safest place in the whole room. Miss me, Ron gets hit. Might even things out a bit."

Harry laughed. "Brilliant, Fred. Nice to see someone thinking for once. Of course, I only have to be a little careful. Ron's still a few scars behind me. Well, let's see what you…" Harry's voice trailed off as Fred slowly turned to the right, making himself a smaller target, and raised his wand at Ron. "Don't think I won't, Harry. If Ron going saves the rest of my family, then it's a fair trade. I figure you can't keep him from bleeding out and fight me at the same time." Ron's mouth and eyes had gone wide, and he stared at the tip of his brother's wand, gaping.

Harry had lost his smile. He pointed his wand at Bill, the closest Weasley. Fred shook his head. "I'm still ahead, Harry. I've three of my family dead in the corner there, and I'm likely next. I have to assume you'd kill us all anyway, and Ron's the key. I figure it's more important to you that he's alive than all the rest of us dead, or you would have killed us while we were stupefied. Kill Bill, and I slice Ron and take my chances."

Harry grimaced, as if he was in pain, and lowered his wand. "Brilliant again Fred. But only one person _has_ to die today, and that's me." Fred wrinkled his brow in confusion. Harry laughed without humor. "Can't have two boys-who-lived. Have to make Ron my replacement, then I have to go. But have to do it right. He can't win if he's not _really_ the Boy-Who-Lived."

Fred nodded and said "Excellent" followed by a loud d_iffindo_ and Ron fell screaming to the ground, freed from his ropes. Harry screamed "Noooooo" as he charged Fred firing stunners, but Fred had dove to his left, firing more _diffindo_s. The first took out one of the far legs of the table, and it tipped over, scattering wands in front of the Weasleys. The second freed George, who landed right behind the tipped table, shielded from the fight as he scrabbled for his wand.

Ron staggered to his feet, patting himself looking for injuries, looking shocked when he didn't find any. He looked up with a big grin on his face just in time to have his wand bounce off his chest, thrown by George. He looked about in confusion for a moment, then stooped to get his wand and stood, looking for Harry, and promptly got hit square in the chest with a stunner.

Harry saw Ron stand up and find himself uninjured, at the same time George was freed and entered into the fray. His horror evaporating, he gave a whoop of joy and entered into the fight with glee. He stunned Ron before he could get a shot off, then sent stunners at both Fred and George to put them on the defensive, then summoned the spare wands on the floor away from George before he could get a hold of any more. He didn't have time to spare to grab them and they flew past him to the far corner where the bodies lay. He was hard pressed to keep up with the twins, blocking or dodging their spells, undoing their efforts to free the others, re-stunning Ron whenever they _enervated_ him, and still trying to get in spells of his own. He made his way to Ron, getting him back up on his platform tied up and took cover behind it. Fred and George now had to pick their shots with care, giving Harry a breather. His robes were cut and singed in places and he probably had a marvelous bruise over his entire left rib-cage.

"That was effin brilliant, Fred!" he yelled happily as he popped out around the edge of Ron's platform, snapping off spells. George summoned some of the wands and Harry tracked them in, banishing them away again just before George could grab them.

"Happy to make you happy," said Fred as he took advantage of the slight pause to start cutting the ropes on his remaining family, but Harry rebound them just as quickly.

Harry realized that he couldn't keep up with the twins indefinitely, eventually they would free their family and Harry would be really outnumbered. He saw Ron's wand still a few feet out into the room and summoned it. He fired off a few more spells, ducking behind his cover between each. The last spell was an _incendio_ igniting the table the twins were using for cover, but instead of popping back out to the right he continued rolling to the left and charged from cover firing spells from both wands, taking them by surprise. Ron's wand was a poor match and the spells were low powered, but they kept the twins ducking behind the smoking, flaming table anyway. Harry then vanished the table and stunned both of them before they could react.

Harry slowed to a stop, panting, with his hands on his knees. "Man, that was wicked!" he said to the room at large. "But not good enough. Sorry Fred," and he cast the _abra cadabra_ one last time. All the remaining Weasleys slumped in their bindings, tears on their faces. Harry levitated Fred over to the corner, and George back up to his platform, tying him in place and waking him up. He summoned all the wands, placing him back in his pocket.

He turned back to Ron. "Wakey wakey," he said, casting_ rennervate_ on Ron once again. "You missed it, Ron! Fred and George were awesome!"

The room slowly came back into focus for Ron. He had been stunned and_ rennervated_ several times in succession, and was a little groggy. He came-to fully to see a smiling Harry right in front of him. Beyond him he could see the fourth body in the corner and George back up on his platform. He sagged against the ropes, defeated. "Cheer up, Ron," said Harry. "We did it! You can be the Boy-Who-Lived now! You're going to be rich, and famous, and once you kill Voldemort you'll be the hero of England!"

Ron mumbled something at Harry. "What's that, Ron?" Couldn't hear you."

Ron yelled out, sobbing, "I said, I would rather have my family back, you great bloody prick!"

"Well, hell, Ron. I've been telling you that for years. A little late for you to change your mind, don't you think? I mean I went to all this effort and everything. Kind of hard to undo a killing curse, even for me."

Ron just broke down into tears. Harry patted his ropes. "Buck up there, Ron, after 5-10 years it becomes only unbearable. Then the pressure of having to kill Voldemort ramps up and things get really unpleasant again. But that's the fun life of a rich and famous hero!"

Harry started wandering towards the door. "Well, that's it I guess," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "You're the hero now, so I can go finally. It'll be good, I think. I'm very tired, and could use the rest."

"Harry? Harry? Harry!" yelled Ron.

"What?" said Harry, irritably.

"You get back here! Cut me down so I can kill you myself!"

"Don't worry Ron," Harry said quietly, "both of those little things will be taken care of shortly," as he continued slowly to the far end of the room.

"Huh?"

Harry didn't answer. Instead of going out the door, however, he went up to Hermione again, entering the zone of silence. Hermione was crying steadily, and shook her head violently again as Harry spoke to her. Harry put one hand on her cheek, and she stilled. He spoke a few more words, then raised his wand. Very carefully, he cut the top rope only, then headed out towards the middle of the room. Frantically, Hermione was wiggling and squirming in her bonds, loosening and unwrapping them. Harry knelt on the floor, and put the tip of his wand on his scar. Hermione had loosened her ropes to the point that she and they slid down the platform to form a tangled mass on the floor, and she struggled to unravel herself. Just as she got free and started to stagger towards Harry, he cried out "a_vada kadavra._" He was lit by a green halo, then slumped over.

Hermione screamed "Nooooooooo!" and fell to a stop by Harry. She put her fingers on his neck, then her ear on his chest. She broke down in sobs, and pulled him up into her lap, hugging him, rocking back and forth. "Noooooooo!"

More A/N: This story popped into my head when I read _Souls Abound_, by robst, and other stories that dealt with the Horcruxes (Horcruxi, Horcrae?) as less than inanimate objects. Harry, a living being with a soul, was carrying around a chunk of soul from a hugely powerful and evil dude in his forehead. How could it **not** effect him? Look what Nagini turned into. So if it's trying to take over, and Harry is slowly losing, what might happen...? While this was percolating in my brain, I also read _Champion's Champion,_ _Trademark Dispute_ and other Clell65619, and a whole bunch of Bobmin, so enough said. Different endings presented themselves, and I couldn't decide, so I included them all. Enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. Looked into buying the rights, found I was several billion dollars short. Or, to paraphrase a disclaimer I saw on robst's site, my thanks to Ms. Rowling for allowing all of us to build sandcastles on her beach. Enjoy.

Ron Gets His Wish chapter 2

ENDING ONE:

Hermione screamed "Nooooooooo!" and fell to a stop by Harry. She put her fingers on his neck, then her ear on his chest. She broke down in sobs, and pulled him up into her lap, hugging him, rocking back and forth. "Noooooooo!"

Ron matched Hermione in her scream. "Noooooooooo!" and thrashed in his ropes. "Nooooooooooo!"

Ron shot upright, tangled in his blankets, dripping in sweat. He looked around, confused. Gradually he recognized he was still in the spare bedroom at Shell Cottage, his brother's house. There was a gentle tap at the door, and Bill poked his head in.

"You alright there, Ron? Nightmares again?"

"Yeah. I'll be alright in a bit."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No, I'll be alright. I may just sit outside for a spell."

"Alright then, I'll see you in the morning. Night, Ron."

"Night, Bill," Ron said as he gathered up his robe and a blanket and headed once again out to one of the chairs on the front porch. "There's got to be a way to find them again," he muttered to himself.

A/N: My original ending. I couldn't really kill off Harry or the Weasleys, even in a fiction story. I would feel guilty. I always wondered what Ron's time apart was like outside of his explanation. Can't have been good.


	3. Chapter 3

Standard disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. Looked into buying the rights, found I was several billion dollars short. Or, to paraphrase a disclaimer I saw on robst's site, my thanks to Ms. Rowling for allowing all of us to build sandcastles on her beach. Enjoy.

Ron Gets His Wish Chapter 3

ENDING TWO:

Hermione screamed "Nooooooooo!" and fell to a stop by Harry. She put her fingers on his neck, then her ear on his chest. She broke down in sobs, and pulled him up into her lap, hugging him, rocking back and forth. "Noooooooo!"

Ron watched her silently for a minute. "Uh, Hermione?" he said quietly. She didn't seem to hear him. "Hermione?" he said, louder.

Hermione glanced up, eyes and cheeks red. "What?"

"Think you could get the rest of us down?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Just give me a minute," and she looked down at Harry again, still rocking, and kissed him on the top of his head.

Ron was getting more and more irritated by the second. "Hermione, leave the bloody nutter and get us down. In case you weren't paying attention, he killed half my family!" his voice rising to a bellow by the end.

Hermione stopped rocking and gave Ron a glare he had never seen before. Dead eyes, with a touch of rage or maybe light from the pits of hell in the back. Ron hadn't known previously what the word contempt meant, but he knew what it felt like now. He gulped. "I was paying attention, Ronald, but clearly you weren't."

Ron sputtered into a silent rage as Hermione laid Harry down gently on the floor and straitened him out. She dug through his pocket and pulled out all the wands. Finding hers, she cut Bill loose, then walked slowly over to the bodies in the corner. Bill found his wand and started freeing the rest of his family. Ron watched as Hermione waved her wand over the bodies, muttering something he couldn't hear as Bill finally cut him down. Hermione returned to Harry's side and sat back down on the floor, putting his head in her lap and stroking his hair, and started crying silently again. Ron staggered a bit before stalking over. He wound up and aimed a big kick at his former friend now murderer of his family. Hermione quickly cast a _protego_ sending Ron reeling back to land on his backside. He stared at her in shock. Harry was very clearly the bad guy here, why was she defending him even now?

"Hermione, what….?" Ron's voice was joined by the rest of his family, some even pointing wands at Hermione in case she started going as crazy as Harry did.

"Oh, relax, the lot of you. Go help the rest, they're going to be really stiff and sore," she said, jerking her head at the bodies in the corner. "When everyone's ready, I'll explain."

They all stared at her for a moment, not understanding her at all, before looking into the corner and seeing their previously 'dead' family members starting to stir. With exclamations of shock and joy they all rushed over to check on them. Soon they were sitting up and looking around, rather surprised to be alive. Within a few minutes they were hobbling over with assistance to stand around Hermione and Harry.

"Alright Hermione, what's going on, is Harry really dead, and why is his scar nearly gone now?" asked Ginny angrily.

"Have a seat, it'll take a few minutes," Hermione replied, and the Weasleys conjured chairs or sat on the floor around her. They all appeared angry, sad, relieved, confused and tired all at once. She took a deep breath. So much had been kept secret for so long. Didn't seem to have worked out, though.

"It's very important that we're careful who knows about this. If Voldemort finds out, he will never be defeated. Understand?" She glared in particular at Percy. Everyone looked confused, but nodded, including Percy. "Harry really is dead," Hermione started. Ginny looked crestfallen. "He killed himself with the _avada kadavra_…."

"Well it didn't work on them, so why can't you wake Harry up?" interrupted Ron.

Hermione glared him into silence. "If, Ronald, you were paying attention, you would have noticed he did not use the _avada kadavra_ on your family. He used _abra cadabra_. A totally different, and I may add, totally made up spell. Basically a heavy duty stunner spell colored green. Apparently of his own invention."

"But why?" asked Molly.

"Harry figured something out, and I'm afraid he was actually correct. He was worried that his scar was a Horcurx." Ron blanched, and Bill muttered "Bloody hell."

"And for the rest of us, that means….?" asked George.

"Right. Well Voldmort, in his pursuit of power and immortality, broke little pieces off his soul and housed them in various objects. You can destroy his body, but you can't really kill him because his soul can't depart this plane. So he can always come back to a new body. We've been tracking those objects down and destroying them."

"And Harry thought his scar was a piece of Voldemort?" Molly screeched.

"Yes. Placed there when Voldemort was blown up the first time around. That's why Harry could see what Voldemort and his snake were doing, why he could feel what Voldemort was feeling. Carrying around the locket Horcrux seemed to wake the fragment in Harry, and it was trying to take over. It was driving Harry slowly crazy, he hadn't slept in days, and Voldemort was trying to help it take over through their connection. Harry couldn't fight it any more, and he knew the soul fragment in him had to be destroyed before Voldemort would be made mortal again."

"Yeah, so even if Harry was right, why all this?" Fred asked, waving his hand to indicate the whole room and what they all had just gone through.

"I may have mentioned it was slowly driving him crazy? But in Harry's mind it had to happen because all he had available to destroy it with was the avada kadavra."

"What's that got to do with anything?" huffed Ron.

"Remember what Moody, I mean Barty, said about it. You have to mean it. So Harry had to be filled with such self-loathing that he truly hated himself and could really kill himself and the other soul fragment with the spell." Hermione froze in place for a moment, thinking. "Um, if he didn't hate himself enough, it wouldn't work. He didn't want anyone else to have to do it, and he was running out of time. Even just pretending to kill some of you, and making the others believe that he did, was evidently enough. His scar being nearly gone, and I guess him not running around as a Voldie junior, shows he was right. So one more bit of Voldemort's soul is gone. That's why this has to stay quiet. If he finds out, he will make more and hide them and we'll never win." The surrounding Weasleys looked suitably appalled.

"And the whole will and the Boy-Who-Lived bit?" Ron asked, still angry. Hermione gave him that new glare again. In Ron's mind it was right up there with Acromantula on the list of things to avoid. "Right, right, going crazy," he muttered.

"That and Harry felt that you could be a right jealous git at times. He would give anything to have a family, and couldn't understand how you couldn't be happy having one. So he gave you yours back, after taking it away from you. He hopes you learned your lesson, by the way. The money had to go somewhere, better you than Narcissa or Bellatrix. Making you the Boy-Who-Lived was just a sick joke on you and the magical world in general." Ron had the grace to look ashamed instead of angry. "If I were you, however, I would head to the Prophet strait away to make sure they don't publish that letter."

"Why should we worry about that?" asked Arthur. "It's not like Harry could really make Ron into the Boy-Who-Lived."

Hermione just stared at him with an incredulous look on her face. 'Blinkered, all of them,' she thought to herself. "Mr. Weasley, Harry wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived either. There's no such thing. He was a 15 month old baby who was an innocent bystander in a crib who managed to survive his mother blowing up an evil wizard. Because of that, and because of one of thousands of useless prophecies that only matters because Voldemort started to fulfill its requirements, the entire magical world has hung this whole war on Harry to solve all by himself. Do you really want to risk your son's future on the general public, and more importantly Voldemort, _not_ believing Ron is the new Boy-Who-Lived, especially if Harry tells everyone that he is? Hmmm?"

Mr. Weasley blanched. "Right. Come on Percy, we have to get to the Prophet. What are we going to tell them instead?"

"Just tell them it was a prank that got out of hand. That's even the truth. Tell them that if they publish it it will destroy the hope and the will of all who are fighting Voldemort, and see if they want to be responsible for that. And maybe mentioning that if any harm comes to Ron as a result you will sue their pants off wouldn't hurt. And maybe Percy could claim the Ministry would take a very dim view of it being printed as well. Let the editor in chief keep it as a souvenir, tell him maybe Harry might sign it someday."

"Right, we're off then. You'll be okay taking care of things here, Molly?" he asked his wife.

"What? Oh yes, I can manage here."

With that, Mr. Weasley and Percy ran to the door, which opened easily, and headed off up the stairs. Mrs. Weasley stood, wobbling before Bill put out a steadying hand. "Thanks, Bill. C'mon kids. Upstairs with you. I'll see if there's any makings for tea."

"If it's all right with you, I want to stay with Harry for a few minutes, alone," said Hermione, tearfully. "I want to say goodbye."

"Why does…." started Ginny, before getting the new glare from Hermione. She gulped. "Right, right. We'll just give you some time, then." The others picked up their wands quietly and headed for the door. Fred and George paused to give Hermione a quick hug. "Come up when you're ready, dear," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Thanks."

Alone, Hermione pulled Harry up into her lap again. She hugged him tight and began to rock back and forth again. "I don't know if you can hear me Harry. But I need to tell you. I need you. I don't want to go on without you. I love you, Harry. I really do. I have for a long time. And I couldn't tell you before, because I was young and scared, or there was yet another catastrophe going on, or we were fighting, or Ron was being an arse, or… I'm sorry Harry, there's really no excuse. I should have told you. I almost did many times, but the right words never seemed to come. And now you're gone and I'm here alone and we're supposed to be together. I need us to be together. But there's a way, Harry. Only one soul is needed, Harry, and you took more than one. The other can stay there Harry, and you can come back. You don't have to go on. You can come back. I know it. I know you can do it. Come back, Harry. Come back to me, please….."

Harry remained still in her arms, and tears began to fall again, silently. She kissed the top of his head, despair crashing down on her. A great pit opened in her stomach, and she shivered with cold. What would she do now? What would she do without Harry? The country was falling down around them, Voldemort was gaining strength daily, and it seemed it was up to three teenagers to stop him, hunted by the very government they were trying to save. Now Harry was dead. Could they win without him? Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to try anymore. It was their effin mess, let them clean it up. She should get on a plane to Australia today, she had her passport with her…..

She tried to wipe the tears from her face, but found her arms were tangled in Harry's. She pulled harder, but still couldn't get free. Great, now rigor is setting in, she thought. Then she felt Harry take a big breath in her arms. "Harry….?" She leaned back to see emerald eyes looking back at her. "Don't cry, Hermione," he whispered, and a spike of joy pierced her heart and exploded within her. He raised a hand to her face. "I love you too." Then his arm fell and he faded off to sleep. Hermione felt like she was floating, wrapped warmly in happiness and love, light the color of the rainbow was rushing in and filled the deep pit in her stomach, overflowing to fill the rest of her. She had never felt so _good_ in her life. She smiled. Defeating Voldemort suddenly seemed like the easiest thing in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

Standard disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. Looked into buying the rights, found I was several billion dollars short. Or, to paraphrase a disclaimer I saw on robst's site, my thanks to Ms. Rowling for allowing all of us to build sandcastles on her beach. Enjoy.

Ron Gets His Wish Chapter 4

ENDING THREE

Harry woke. He had no idea how long he had been asleep, or indeed how long he had been awake. He felt…. great! His eyes popped open. He was laying on white, surrounded by white with a white sky. He was warm and comfy, not achy anymore. He even felt clean. He reached a hand up to his forehead. His scar was flat, in fact was hard to even feel. It wasn't painful to touch. He grinned. It worked!

Harry hopped to his feet. Things were slowly appearing out of the whiteness. Benches on the ground, and high windows showed blue behind them. An arched ceiling appeared and joined the walls to hold the windows. Not exactly what he was expecting, but then he had only the vaguest notion of what he really was expecting. Harry noted he was totally naked, and grinned again. He didn't care in the slightest. Now where…? He heard a small whimper behind him.

He turned. There. On the other side of a bench down the now defined walkway. He heard a train whistle in the distance. He walked slowly to the thing on the ground. Yep, that was it. Sure was ugly. He grinned again, and suddenly he was dressed in football gear, down to the boots. Awesome! He backed up a couple of steps, set himself, then ran forward and with a great kick launched it into the air. It arced up and up, eventually passing through one of the high windows with a satisfying crash. Harry threw his fists into the air and ran in circles screaming "GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLL" as loud as he could. The train whistle was much louder now, and seemed to be celebrating with him.

Harry pulled up short. Professor Dumbledore had appeared and was walking toward him, his arms opened wide, and with a big smile on his face he said "Harry…" Harry yelled "Professor" and took off at a run at him. Dumbledore stopped to wait for him, arms still open. Harry gauged the distance and launched a kick at the voluminous robes. Dumbledore squeaked in surprise, and bent over, hands cupping his now very painful bits. Perfect shot! Harry slammed his knee up into the pointed nose, making it more crooked than ever and explode in blood. He then wound up again and kicked him as hard as he could in the shin. Dumbledore dropped to the ground, not having enough hands to hold all the painful areas. Harry looked around. No red card! Awesome! He threw his fists up and ran in circles again: "GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLL"

The train pulled up alongside the walkway, whistle and now brakes joining in the celebration. It came to a stop and the doors opened. Harry stopped at the still moaning Dumbledore. "Bye, you old wanker!" and stomping on his abdomen, Harry ran for the train. Dumbledore rolled over with a groan and lifted a hand up at Harry. "Harry, wait…" he wheezed. Harry just grinned and waved as the doors closed. Dumbledore was unable to get up, and the trained started to slowly pull away. "No, Harry…." Harry turned away and got comfortable on one of the seats. He hoped that the ride wasn't too long, and that his parents would be there to meet him. He propped himself in the corner, and closed his eyes. He could use another nap.

A/N: I offer no apologies. You were were warned, and if you made it this far, either you enjoyed it or you deserved it.


End file.
